A Story of Both Brotherly and Romantic love
by ronzgirlz
Summary: PG for safety's sake. Ron and Hermione are heartsick, and Harry is still brooding over Sirius....see what happens!
1. Inner Thoughts

Hey hi everybody! It's Gecko and Frog here, and we- Cockatoo: Hey, wait just a second here! Isn't it the CGF, not the GF? Frog: Hey, where did you come from? Back in your cage, beast! Cockatoo: What are you doing? Gecko: Writing fanfic. Cockatoo: Awww, I'm not a fanfiction person. (Frog slaps) Owwwww!!!! Frog: And the moral of this story is, kiddies: Never snort pixie sticks! Gecko: Ummm, isn't it "How do Girl Scouts leave a place?" Cockatoo: CLEANER THAN SHE FOUND IT! YEAH! Gecko and Frog: SHUT UP! *Punt cockatoo to Timbuctu* Gecko: We've been reading Cockatoo the first couple chapters. We heard loud "aww"ing sounds coming from her sleeping bag. Frog: Oh, no! Maybe she has a stomach ache! Laxatives! Laxatives! Cockatoo needs laxatives! A/N: This is Gecko. I wrote Ron's parts, and Frog wrote Hermione's (for now, anyways). *************************************************  
  
Hermione lay sullenly in the stuffy blankets of her four-poster bed. It had been a hard night. Why was it that he ignored her? Was she too fat? Too frizzy? Too smart? All these questions and more raced through her saddened mind. The events of the day flashed before her closed eyes like many moving photographs. The ball.....the dates....the fight....as she lay in quiet misery, she remembered.....  
  
Everyone planned for it. Rumors had been spreading like wildfire about the decorations, entertainment, and events. Hermione had glanced his way a few times while they discussed the ideas. The Starlit ball was something all sixth years looked forward to. She kept looking meaningfully in his direction, but he was always turned away from her. Probably eyeballing some other girl he truly fancied. Her heart crumpled at this thought. **********  
  
Ron turned over in bed and groaned softly. Harry mumbled something, and Ron froze, hoping he hadn't noticed. Ron's thoughts turned the day's events. He hadn't been able to ask anyone to the dance but her. Three times he'd been about to ask her to dance and lost his nerve. Three times he'd watched her dance with someone else, meaningless names who'd asked her to. He couldn't help but watch her, even if he knew everyone would know. The only person besides her who really couldn't find out was Harry. What would he say? He'd scoff, probably, and tell Ron not to be stupid.  
Then there was the fight. He'd just been trying to cover up. He'd thrown another jibe at her about Krum, and she'd told him that the only reason he'd said that was because he'd never had a girlfriend and was jealous, and stormed out of the Great Hall. He wondered what would've happened if the fight had never taken place.  
Ron sighed inwardly wishing he could get up the courage just to ask her. He really should have asked her to the ball, but every time he'd tried, he'd just said something stupid like, "Where's your boyfriend, Victor?", even if he knew that had been over long ago.  
Suddenly, he wondered why. Krum hadn't been so bad, and it was she who had broken up with him. Why? Hope inflated him. He thought and dreamed until his dreams really were dreams and he fell asleep. ******************  
  
The next morning, Hermione forced herself out of bed. She stumbled groggily over to the washbasin, where she splashed water all over her face. She was also trying to wash away her thoughts from last night. She felt so lethargic today, and almost like she had a hangover, even though she had not consumed anything stronger than butterbeer. Well, almost. Picturing his face was enough to make her dizzy. She slowly dressed, thankful that it was a Saturday, and headed down the stone staircase toward the common room. No one was there. She made a habit of waking up early, but it was on days like these that she regretted it. She plopped down into an armchair by the fireplace, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Upstairs, she heard the sounds of someone else waking up and wondered who it was. She sighed. She knew she would have to face him. After all that happened last night, plus her feelings for him, this would not be easy. *********************************  
  
Ron stretched and sat up in bed, glancing at the clock as he did so. It was only 6:00. Careful not to make a noise, he washed up, got dressed, and stumbled downstairs to finish his history of magic homework.  
Only he never got his homework done, because there was someone else in the common room. Someone very important. 


	2. Stupid Ron Stupid stupid stupid stupid

Hermione stood up as soon as he walked in; he noticed this with interest, and the small bubble of hope rose in him again. She looked so vulnerable in that first moment, so absurdly young, that his heart rose in his throat and he couldn't breathe. He realized how he must be looking at her, and looked away quickly. He walked over, picked up his bag, and plopped himself down. "Morning," he mumbled. **************  
  
Her throat closed up. Could she say it? She forced herself to summon up the bit of voice she had and managed to squeak, "Morning." His tousled, disheveled appearance added even more to his obvious good looks. ******************  
  
She looked disinterested. The bubble deflated. He took out his homework, making as much noise as he could. **********************  
  
She tried to appear as nonchalant as possible, but it was extremely hard. Unfortunately, Ron looked the same and was making a point about doing his homework as loudly as possible. Probably to tell her "serves you right!" She had to bring up the dance. "Ron, about last night......" He looked up swiftly. Could it be? He gulped. "Yeah?" "I just....I wanted to apologize. For what I said. I didn't mean it. I was just mad..." He was still looking at her, wondering.... "And.....I wanted to ask you...." He sat up and gulped again. "Why do you keep jibing me about Krum?" Could he tell her the truth? "Because......" They looked at each other, each one seeing their own expression on the other's face. "Hi......." said Harry uncertainly from the stairs. They both looked up, like guilty school kids, Harry thought. Ron knew Harry wanted to talk, but he couldn't bring himself to care much; not after what had just happened. "Hi Harry," said Hermione, and Ron resisted the urge to look around. But Harry had noticed something, because he was looking from Ron to Hermione curiously. Ron performed his usual cover-up automatically, without thinking. He looked at Hermione and said, as if continuing a conversation: "Yeah, I just thought you were still writing letters to Krum, that's all." Then he gasped and sat perfectly still, wishing the world had a rewind button. *****************  
  
"What?" Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Weren't they just talking about this? Didn't he care? Completely ignoring her feelings for him, she shot out at him immediately, "You think that's funny? Viktor and I had something you'll never have. What we had was special, and you are jealous! I can't believe I'd even consider you changing!" She stood up and stormed off, shoving past some third years just coming down the staircase. ******************************  
  
"Er......." said Harry, not sure how to handle this. "Girls! They're so touchy!" said Ron, throwing himself backward into his chair. "Well, you know, you do keep doing that...." said Harry awkwardly. "Oh, right, take her side, I don't care! You're all against me in this place!" his voice broke, and he turned away to hide wet eyes, hoping Harry thought it had been an adolescent breaking of the voice.  
No such luck. Harry corkscrewed his head to look into Ron's face, and said, "Hey, you two have fought before. What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong! What's with the third degree?" Ron stood up and started to pace. "Of course there's something wrong. Tell me, I can keep a secret." "So I'm a bit upset that we fought, we're friends, what d'you expect?" Harry stared at him. "No, it's more than that. And I've got a feeling I know what's wrong. You like her, don't you? As more than a friend, I mean." Ron, too surprised to argue, sat down and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "That's it, isn't it? Wow.....well then, why do you keep starting arguments?" "To put you off the scent. Obviously, it didn't work." "How long have you liked her?" "You mean this way? Since about the end of last year, when we got off the train." Ron saw Harry flinch at the memory of last year's events in the Department of Mysteries, but he didn't particularly care at the moment. "Well.......why on earth didn't you ask her to the ball?" "Because we're friends. She'd probably think it was just weird. She probably hates me anyway. She probably---" "Stop that," said Harry firmly. "You won't get anywhere moping around like that. For one thing, how can you possibly know if you haven't talked to her?" Ron sat up a little straighter. "Well, there have been times when I almost thought....." Harry couldn't help thinking this was a bit weird, but he wanted to help his friend, so he said, "Like when?" "Like at the ball, I could've sworn she was watching me....but maybe she wasn't....and this morning, right before you came down, it was almost like....." He shrugged helplessly. Harry felt awkward. He'd thought he'd interrupted something. "Sorry." "Not your fault. You didn't know." "There's one thing you have to do, though, if you don't want this to end in disaster. Stop starting arguments with her, and don't take the bait if she starts one. There's no need now that I know anyway." "Yeah....I guess so." Harry was about to says something else, but the other students were coming down now, yawning and stretching and rubbing their eyes; the conversation would have to wait. 


End file.
